Once upon a Time
by Laia Moon
Summary: Pairing: KarenDreizehn. Remember the first volume? One story was about a girl who went blind. This is a short story featuring Karen and her Doberman....
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Pet Shop of Horrors is not of my property, and will never be (sadly. My hopes are crushed). I am simply taking some of the characters that have been created by their wonderful author-artist and borrowing them, so that I can make them obey my flights of fancy.

Warning: None. Not really……

Pairing: Karen/Dreizhen. Remember the first volume of PSOH? The story with the blind girl and her Doberman? Karen was the girl. Dreizhen, or "Dora-chan" was the Doberman that D gave to her as a bodyguard. I've always wanted to read a fanfic with this pairing. Sadly, I never have. So I decided to try writing one myself.

Notes: English is not my native language. I'll do my best to revise, but if an error gets past me, feel free to point it out. Helpful reviews are appreciated. Flames….well, I suppose I'll simply ignore them. No, wait—I can use them for something much more useful: to feed the flame on my stove. They'll heat the ramen I enjoy so much quite nicely. Please be gentle and/or constructive when you review.

Length: One-shot. A drabble, even. Approximately 500 words.

**Once Upon a Time**

There once was a girl who lost her family. She saw their dead bodies lying on the floor of the living room—and the person who had killed them fleeing out the window. She was so shocked at what she saw—who the attacker was—that she became blind out of sheer wilfulness. She refused to look at a world in which such cruelty and ugliness existed. And so, the murderer burned her family's house down, though she was saved. Luckily, she was not left completely alone in the world: her mother's cousin took her in and decided to become her guardian. She was lonely, though, and he noticed.

There once was a Doberman who left his home country, Germany, after a reduction in the canine ranks of the army. Somehow, he ended up living in a pet shop located in the Chinatown section of the American city of Los Angeles. The owner of the pet shop was the infamous (for a few) Count D. He was quite happy and well cared-for, as all of Count D´s pets tended to be.

Once upon a time, a girl and a dog met. Remembering that the Count had once sold her some canaries, the lonely girl returned to the pet shop seeking a new pet to keep her company, as she spent much time indoors and alone. A seeing-eye dog was what Count D suggested she might want. And so, Karen met Dreizehn. Thirteen. Dora-chan. A dog which seemed human to her—but not to others. And, once she recovered her sight, not to her either. For her darling Dora-chan risked his life to protect her from the same attacker that had killed Karen's parents: her cousin and guardian, Edward.

Calling out to him and receiving no response, she willed herself to _see_ as she had willed herself, once upon a time, to _not_ see. As her vision cleared, she saw the following scene: her cousin, dead and bloodied on the floor, with Dreizehn, wounded, beside him. Those cheekbones she had felt….those ears, that nose, the forehead…that fierce face she had touched so carefully one night….it was her beloved Dreizehn…a dog. The hands which had so many times held her and prevented her fall….mere paws.

"I knew it." She said, while hiding her tears in her dog's dark fur, "See, you're just a normal Doberman after all."

Some nights, though, she woke up, startled. She could have sworn that she felt soft lips touching her brow. Gentle gloved hands brushing curly strands of hair from her face. A warm breath, smelling faintly of things unknown, ghosting across her bare throat. Tears would spring to her eyes, irrevocably. Impossible to call back, as the pained throbbing of her heart could not be stopped. She dismissed it all as the fanciful imaginings of a woman who has not yet loved.

When she woke up, he was always there. Dreizehn. Thirteen. Dora-chan. Her fierce and handsome bodyguard. Her mysterious guardian. Her dog, ever by her side.

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AN: So, what do you think? This was originally intended to be a short one-shot, but I'm starting to feel as though I might be able to continue it a bit more. After all, the "romance" hasn't really started yet, has it? Please review: It'll encourage me to keep on writing!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer**_: The characters are not mine (and I´m not making any money off of them), they belong to the creator of Pet Shop of Horrors. I´m simply borrowing them for a little while, to use in my story.

_**Pairing: **_Karen/Dreizehn

_**AN: **_Sorry for taking so long to get this out. Computer problems all summer and such (in fact I´ve typed this chapter up at computer in my university computer lab). This was actually written in late April, and edited in July-August…even though it´s out (finally) in September.

I have a very good idea of what I want to happen in the story now, though, and just have to keep on writing. I´ll try to take advantage of the few days I have left before classes actually start. I hope you like this chapter (a bit of a fluff warning). Please review.

Oh, and a big **thank you** to everyone who reviewed this story and got me to actually plot out something that will "expand" the one-shot".

**Once Upon a Time**

**Chapter 2**

Karen woke suddenly, chest heaving, gasping for breath. Still struggling to return air to her lungs, she slowly lifted her body up, using one of her arms as a support.

As always, her eyes automatically searched for the one everybody called her "fierce and loyal bodyguard"—the one she fondly referred to as Dora-chan. Dreizehn. Truly, everyone thought that the name the cook had come up with (and which the "young miss" had taken to with gusto) was demeaning for such a refined and noble-looking dog. But, as Karen constantly pointed out, _he_ didn´t seem to mind, and so "Dora-chan" he remained.

It was only in those rare moments of anger and exasperation (and, sometimes, when she was overcome by strange bouts of longing—for what, she wasn´t sure) that she found herself angrily shouting, resignedly sighing or quietly murmuring his real name.

She couldn´t see him. Where was he? Ever since she had lost her sight (and after she had regained it), he had stayed by her side. He slept by her bed now: there was no longer any chance of attackers managing to get to Karen again.

Any thoughts about it being improper had vanished the day she discovered he was a "normal" dog. Well, about as normal as the pets you got from Count D´s petshop could ever be. Karen had always thought that his pets seemed to be unnaturally—or should she say "unusually"?—intelligent.

Her head moved from side to side, scanning the darkened room. Karen´s eyesight wasn´t the best in the dark, but the little light that filtered through the curtains was enough for her to determine that her ex-seeing-eye dog was nowhere to be seen.

"Dreizehn…" she murmured, worried. Nervously pulling her covers up to her chin, she glanced around the vaguely lit room again. Perhaps she should turn the lights on to check for him? She didn´t want to wake anyone up, or rouse them to look for the precious dog, only to have them worry needlessly. The fact was, though, that Dora-chan never left her side. And _he simply wasn´t there._

The still-young woman began to panic. Letting go of the covers, she made as if to brush them aside, meaning to get up and out of bed.

When something soft, and yet cold and wet brushed against her hand, she barely suppressed the urge to shriek. For a moment, the soft touch turned warm, reminiscent of a pair of lips.

Karen looked down into the soulful eyes of her Doberman guardian, and shook her head. Passing fancies: since when did a cold dog nose remind her of lips? _**Ridiculous**_. Dreizehn´s inquisitive whine broke her train of thought.

"Dora-chan!" she furiously whispered into her dog´s ear, a disapproving expression on her face. Although it probably had the intent of cowing the dog, such a pouting expression on her face only made her look cute. A young woman she might be, but Karen hadn´t yet grown into her body—adult expressions on her childish face only inspired amusement.

Seeing that what she dubbed "The Look" wasn´t working, she reached for him. Moments later, one of her arms found its way around the dog´s neck. The resulting position was quite awkward: she, half-lounging off the bed; he, half-rising upward, so as to prevent her fall. If she leaned forward just-that-bit more….

Realizing what might occur, Karen moved to scoot backward on the silken sheets. The result obtained was the opposite of the one intended: a headfirst tumble off her bed, and onto her dog.

The peaceful silence of the (mostly) sleeping house was interrupted by a thump and a startled yelp. The small creatures that existed and lived outside the house stilled, holding their collective breaths. However, nothing else was heard, and so they quietly resumed their nightly routines and quickly forgot about what they had heard. Inside the house, the four sleepers that had lightly stirred stilled again and fell into a deeper sleep.

Back in the room, the tangle of arms, legs, and bodies slowly began to unknot itself. Finally, Karen and Dora-chan sat, separate, on the floor of her room—she, leaning against the now-mussed covers on the side of her bed; he, trying to regain what little shreds of dignity he had left. Adult Dobermans did_ not_ yelp like small puppies, and most certainly did not end up tangled in undignified heaps at the foot of a bed along with their _owners_, of all people.

"Sorry, Dreizehn." Karen quietly laughed, torn between mortification and blushing. She was simply glad that it was dark (her blush couldn´t be seen) and she hadn´t had an audience except for Dora-chan. Now that she thought about it—did dog s even know what a blush was? Glancing over at her bodyguard, she suppressed her laughter. If he were a cat, he would have been composure-grooming.

Dreizehn´s ears pricked. She so rarely called him by his given name…..what did she want? Was anything wrong? He whuffed.

"I didn´t mean to fall on you, really." Karen continued, "I was just so startled when I didn´t see you with me…"

Thirteen lowered his head slightly and nosed his master´s cheek, encouraging; prodding; urging her to continue. She giggled slightly at the feel of his nose.

"I want you to be by my side always, Dora-chan!" the girl blurted out impulsively, "I don´t want you to disappear on me again. I want to see you and see you, ever since that day…."

_** The day my cousin betrayed me. The day I discovered who my family´s real killer was. The day I regained my sight. The day I finally saw you, Dreizehn, and a part of me died, while another was born….**_ It all went unsaid; Karen kept these thoughts only for herself. Dora-chan seemed to understand, though, the darling.

Upon his insistence, she slowly got up. _He_ seemed to be alright. If _she_ was lucky, she wouldn´t even bruise. Doggie dearest had cushioned her fall, after all.

As she climbed into the bed, she got a very silly idea. Or, at least, that´s what she told herself. It was probably actually an idea rooted in that deep fear of abandonment she had harboured since the abrupt death of all her family.

Without sparing a moment to true thought, she grabbed her dog, wrapping her arms around his furry body, and hauled him onto the bed. Seconds later, and before the confused canine finished processing what had just happened, he was tucked in too. It was amazing how much strength a young woman such as Karen could have when determined—able to haul a fully-grown adult Doberman into her bed. In Thirteen´s defense, though, there was the fact that he was putty in his master´s hands.

As she settled in under the covers, facing him, she smiled. It would be hard for him to escape her clutches now….

She was acting childish. Nevermind that the chambermaid would throw a fit upon seeing the dog in her bed tomorrow…..Karen admitted that at the moment she didn´t care. Breathing in that unique scent that was his—part dog, part not—she quickly fell asleep, body unconsciously curling towards his.

"Don´t leave me…" she breathed out, letting the deepest wish of her heart come into the world upon the slightest puff of air. Like a bird, it stole past her rosy lips, and flew free, reaching the ears of her animal servant.

Taking the order to heart, Dreizehnsettled into the bed and moved his head next to _hers_. Softly, so as not to disturb Karen, he sighed, already hearing the housekeeper´s future fit about having some of her best sheets ruined by his doggy presence.

She would be safe. He would keep watch over her.

_** What is wrong with you, mistress? Your dreams seem so sad; you wake up in such an altered state…**_ Thirteen, as he thought of himself, wondered for the umpteenth time that night.

It had been happening quite frequently, as of late. She would cry out—not always verbally—; reach out, attempting to grasp something. What she was trying to catch, she didn´t know. Was it possible for humans to have hunting-dreams, as dogs did? Perhaps she dreamt of catching criminals; of protecting a loved one, as _he_ did? (her, and only her…she was always the protected in his dreams now)

How he longed for the days in which speech between them was possible, available, _not_ forbidden. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, and have her understand—

"Look, those birds that you like so much! I´ll catch them for you!"

"Watch out, he´s not to be trusted!"

or even

"I am by your side always and will be _forever_. There is no need to worry about my leaving or anyone taking me away."

Especially that last one, he supposed—he _so _despised seeing her worried, lost….

Was it so bad to hate the fact that she had recovered her mundane sight so quickly? Without it, she had been able to hear him, talk to him…touch him, in a manner different from how she touched him now.

It was not that he disliked it when she patted his head—simply put the feeling of holding her delicate hand in his; linking his arm with hers; or the feeling of her body on his as she happily leaned into him, smiling up at his face with her sightless eyes crinkled shut…it was beyond compare. He treasured those memories.

His canine body shifted on the bed, restless. Yes, canine—that is the only way she saw him now. No longer would she be able to see the "human-within-the-beast".

Karen—Mistress Karen—whimpered into her pillow. She needed comforting. She would never see; never know.

With a subtle ripple of darkness, he shifted shapes. Hesitantly, he moved closer to his owner and wrapped his arm around her. His breath mingled with hers; he buried his head into the space between her throat and shoulder. His mistress´s scent washed over him. Slowly, he inhaled, enjoying being so close to her.

Dreizehn calmly continued on alert for a while more. When he finally deemed it safe enough, he too dropped off.

In her dreams, Karen felt warm, protected. Warm arms wrapped around her. A face that she had never seen smiled at her. If she had truly thought about it, she would have noticed that the stranger´s face was framed by two very strange ears…

In his dreams he protected her. He smiled, and she ran into his arms.

Back in a shop situated in the center of Chinatown, not everyone slept. A small white creature, similar to what crossbreeding a bat and a rabbit would result in, solemnly stared into a golden bowl. Filled with water, it allowed him to "check" on the store´s already-sold pets.

"Q…." it commented thoughtfully. _**These developments are most interesting…**_

Having finished his nightly rounds, Q-chan the Babbit (formerly known as Count D the Grandfather) fluttered off to his perch. After all, tomorrow might prove eventful.

AN: Well, there you have it. A slightly fluffy (and medium-sized) chapter. Believe it or not, the fluff is actually important—I want to show how close those two are before…. Bwahahaha, you´ll have to wait till the next chapter to find out. I haven´t left you with a cliffhanger at all, just a tease in the AN (feel lucky).

Please continue reviewing; I appreciate every single one!! Constructive criticism is welcome (but please be gentle with my easily-bruised ego).

Oh, and calling Dreizehn "Thirteen" is quite intentional. I read that that was what his name meant, and liked it (correct me if I´m wrong, all you German-speakers out there).


End file.
